


Intervention

by kethni



Category: Veep (TV)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, F/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:27:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22514734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kethni/pseuds/kethni
Summary: ‘You chose to talk to me. I didn’t approach you.’‘Yeah, because I’m socialised by the patriarchy to look out for the emotional needs of idiot men who are avoiding their controlling girlfriends instead of just dumping them.’
Relationships: Kent Davison/Selina Meyer
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	Intervention

Selina squirmed in her chair. It wasn’t uncomfortable, for what it was, but it wasn’t as comfortable as it could have been either. Nothing was _quite_ as good as it could have been. The table was a little too high for her. The paper was a little shiny. The purple ink in the fragile plastic pens sat on the surface of the paper, waiting for an errant brush of her hand to smear it.

Also, she was next to Kent. God. If that wasn’t a perfect distillation of everything wrong with the day. The table was the perfect height for _him_. _He_ had brought his own notepaper and pens. He was taking copious notes in flowing handwriting unsullied by smears. Hell, he’d even made some little sketches of something. She couldn’t see what. She didn’t want to lean closer. He might get the idea that she was interested.

‘Okay, let’s take fifteen minutes for networking and coffee and –’

Selina was already out of her seat and heading for the coffee. She wasn’t alone. Pretty much everyone bolted for the refreshments before the CIA analyst finished speaking.

There was always something strangely democratising about these things. Not only was there no Gary, so she had to get her own coffee and snacks, but she had to get _on line_ to do so. People who would stand up when she walked into a room suddenly expected her to stand behind them and wait to get a drink. It was weird and she didn’t like it one little bit.

‘Did you get this message about Tehran?’ someone behind her asked.

‘I have a meeting with George about this afternoon.’

Ugh. Selina tuned it out. POTUS was using her as his personal pooper-scooper for the boring, meaningless issues in Europe and all the nobody-cares-istans of the world. She could have run point in the Middle East but of course he’d never allow her that much authority. So instead of boning up on important things, like Iran, she was stuck becoming an expert in places like Iceland and Finland. There were more people visiting Dollywood daily than lived in Iceland! If the whole country claimed asylum in the US they’d still be outnumbered by people claiming to be fleeing the planet Zog.

‘I thought that we weren’t going to… No, I’m not being… I must’ve misunderstood. No, it isn’t that I don’t wish to see you, of course I… That’s not going to be… Because I’m in a training session and… It’s not an excuse. No. I’m sorry. I did remind you last night. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Of course.’

Selina half glanced over her shoulder. She shouldn’t have done it. She couldn’t resist it.

‘You sound like me when I bail out of one of Catherine’s BS shows,’ Selina said lightly.

Kent glanced at her at he put his cell into his pocket. The resignation and sudden exhaustion on his face looked almost human.

‘Shows?’

Selina shrugged. ‘Contemporary dance and all that. It’s honestly so goddamn painful. I try to be supportive but… Have you _seen_ contemporary dance? At least with kids that think they’re artists they might actually produce something nice you can put on the wall. Probably not Catherine, I guess. She’d probably hand me something that looked like an incontinent dog ate her paints and then crapped them out on the canvas.’

‘Art can be a matter of taste,’ he said.

Selina waved her hand. ‘That’s just an excuse for Modern Art cut-a-horse-in-half-and-call-it-art thinking. Fucking Millennials.’

Kent frowned. ‘Damian Hirst is certainly not a Millennial,’ he said.

‘Is that who did the horse?’

‘A cow and a calf in fact,’ Kent said. ‘Also I believe a whole shark in a tank.’

Selina cocked her head. ‘You gonna tell me that you’re into art?’

‘Only as much as the next moderately intelligent person,’ he said. Then he nodded past her. ‘Your turn.’

‘Oh right.’ It wasn’t until she returned to her seat that it occurred to Selina that he’d just suggested _she_ wasn’t a “moderately intelligent person.”

***

Ben flicked a balled-up piece of paper across the table towards her. Selina rolled her eyes as she grabbed it.

‘If you’re going to have a private conversation, please go outside,’ the analyst said.

Ben slumped back in his chair. ‘You’re not even looking at us.’

She turned around theatrically. ‘You remember I work for the CIA, Mr Cafferty?’

Selina unfolded the paper while they were bickering. It was a better sketch of Kent sitting studiously while Selina napped than she would have expected from Ben. He had made Kent look weirdly… spikey, and long-limbed like some kind of two-legged spider. Sure, Kent was tall and kinda rangy, but he was better proportioned. He was also better looking than Ben made him out to be. Not that Selina would _ever_ admit thinking that to Kent or Ben.

The sensation of being observed made Selina look up. Kent was watching her curiously.

‘What?’ she whispered.

‘You sniggered,’ he said. ‘And then you seemed to redden. I wondered if Ben had for some reason taken it into his head to send you an obscene joke.’

Selina opened and closed her mouth. ‘Excuse me?’

‘Excuse me, Ma’am,’ the analyst said. ‘Do you need to leave the room?’

Selina licked her lips and forced a smile. ‘No. I’m good. Thanks.’

***

Selina didn’t know what she’d done to make the universe hate her but the universe fucking _hated_ her. That was the only possible reason that she ended up in this place, at this time, with these people, doing this _shit_. If one thing had been different, just one thing, then she wouldn’t have ended up doing the practical shit with Kent.

‘I’m never gonna need this,’ she grumbled as she tried to copy the stance they’d been shown.

Kent was rolling up his sleeves. ‘You’re the person in here mostly likely to need it.’

Selina narrowed her eyes. ‘Are you insulting my gender or my height?’

‘I’m referencing the fact that you are the vice president,’ he said. ‘That makes you a potential target for violence in a way that simply doesn’t apply to myself, or Ben, or others.’

‘But I have secret service protection.’

‘Odd,’ he said. ‘You never struck me as a woman happy to make herself utterly dependent on men, least of all for something as important as her safety.’

Selina pulled a face. ‘Shows what you know. I am _totally_ down with delegating physical labour to men.’

‘That wasn’t precisely what I meant. There is a significant difference between having Gary make you a sandwich and relying on the goodwill and innate selflessness of a man you don’t know to save your life.’ Kent squared off opposite her. ‘Allow me to rephrase. I imagine that you value your life too highly to trust it to just anyone.’

‘Maybe I just have more faith in our brave secret service than you do,’ she said tartly.

‘Are you ready?’

‘I’m gonna kick your ass,’ she said.

He shrugged. That was what really frustrated her. He should at least have said something lame that he imagined would sound cool until he said it.

He moved towards insultingly slowly and grabbed her offensively gingerly. Selina rolled her eyes and slammed down her foot onto his. That was bullshit. In real life she’d be wearing heels not these damn flats. In real life he’d have yelled his head off instead of just grunting slightly.

Then she jerked her shoulder, which _should_ have sent him over her shoulder and onto the floor. Instead her knee buckled and they both fell.

Selina lay on her front, winded and cursing. She felt Kent roll off her.

‘No! Do it again!’ the trainer insisted.

Selina lifted her head. ‘Are you fucking kidding me? He just about broke my back and you want me to do it again? He’s too heavy and he didn’t do it right.’

The trainer snapped her fingers at Kent. Kent rolled to his feet in an easy movement. Asshole. 

‘Your technique is what makes this work or not,’ the trainer said. ‘An attacker won’t make it easy for you.’ She stood on the mat and gestured at Kent.

He repeated his attack, with quite a bit more force, Selina noted, and was duly thrown over the trainer’s shoulder.

He landed on his back next to Selina.

‘Try again,’ the trainer repeated.

Kent looked across at Selina. ‘I’m going to end rather dizzy.’

Selina smiling unwillingly. ‘Wait until it’s your turn to throw me. You’re gonna end up smacking me against a wall.’

‘Only if you hit me with another lipstick.’ He rolled up to his feet again and offered her his hand.

‘Pilates huh?’ She didn’t think about how warm his hand was or how effortlessly he pulled her to her feet. ‘For the rolling up.’

‘Oh. Yes. Flexibility is important.’

Selina squared herself on the mat. ‘Especially for older folks like you.’

This time he gripped her strongly. Selina wasn’t a tall woman and she wasn’t a strong woman. There had been occasions when men had done things she hadn’t wanted but it was usually social pressures, or simple shock, that had stopped her from forcing them to stop. Now she was very aware of how much stronger than her Kent was.

‘Ma’am? You should be throwing me,’ he prompted.

‘Can’t. You’re too big. I’m not strong enough.’

She felt him move as he looked down at her.

‘You can,’ he said firmly. ‘It’s simple physics. A child could do it. Pull your shoulder down and bump me forward.’

It was sheer bullishness that made her comply. She’d show _him_ and his simple physics and then maybe the trainer could throw him down a few more –

Kent hit the ground, rolled, and bounced to his feet. ‘Simple physics.’

‘Fat lot of good it does me if the guy just jumps to his feet,’ she said breathlessly.

Kent gestured around the room, where dozens of staffers and congressmen were now groaning on the floor. ‘Statistically it seems an attacker would not be doing that.’

‘Lucky me.’

***

Selina started getting _uncomfortable_ about ten minutes before the advertised afternoon coffee and networking break. By the time that they announced the break she had to sprint for the restroom. After communing with nature, she checked her phone as she sauntered back towards the training session. So, when she heard Kent’s voice somewhere in the maze of rooms, she wasn’t looking where she was going.

‘I’ll try. I know. I know it’s important. I’m sorry. I know. I’m sorry.’

Selina leaned around the wall and watched him.

‘Okay. Okay. I’ll see you… I love –’

He fell silent and then thumbed off his cell and tucked it into his pocket.

‘Your girlfriend is kind of a bitch, huh.’

She’d never seen Kent startle before. It wasn’t as dramatic as most people. He didn’t jump. He didn’t curse. But his eyes widened, and he took half a step back.

‘Ma’am?’

She vaguely waved a hand towards him. ‘Kinda heard part of your conversation.’

A muscle jumped in his jaw. ‘Work-life balance can be complex.’

‘That’s no excuse for talking to you like that.’

He blinked at her. ‘You could hear her?’

‘I could hear you,’ she said. ‘Your tone said plenty.’

He looked away. ‘I will certainly take into account the relationship advice of a woman who was formerly married to an inveterate philanderer and fraudster.’

‘Wow,’ Selina said. ‘Huh. You know, I’m better at this confrontation shit than you, Kent. Good enough to know that you only lash out like that because I hit a nerve. Do what you fucking want. I don’t care. But I’m not wrong. Your girlfriend talks to you like shit. She probably treats you like shit too. I thought you were smarter than putting up with that.’ 

His shoulders rose and his back stiffened. Selina expected… something, some argument however spurious, some attack however kneejerk. Instead he just clenched. No, because that suggested a fist. He withdrew in a way like a tortoise pulling itself back into its shell.

Selina looked away first. ‘We better get back to the session or they’re gonna yell at us like fucking children.’

***

There was always something about Kent that bugged Selina. There were tons of people that she worked with that annoyed her but Kent could get under her skin like a burr under a horse’s saddle. But that was just him getting in the way or being annoying. That was different. He was an obstruction to be worked around or maybe worked with if you could. He wasn’t a _person_ ; you didn’t think about him having crappy relationships and how that might affect him.

Selina didn’t even concern herself with that stuff for her staff if she could avoid it. That was what Amy was for or HR if things went really south. That had happened although not often. Just numbers, right? If you employed as many people as Selina had on staff, for as many years as Selina had been in politics, then sooner or later some of them were gonna be on the wrong end up being victims are some of them were gonna be victimisers. Just numbers.

Selina leaned back in her chair. ‘Gary?’

He straightened up suddenly, almost dropping the Leviathan. ‘Do you need a cup of chamomile tea?’

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘But that’s not what I was gonna ask you.’

Gary paused, caught in an agony of indecision. ‘So… should I go make the tea or wait?’

Selina rolled her eyes. ‘You could’ve made it by now. Yeah, go make the tea and then come back and tell me what you know about Kent.’

‘Davison?’

‘No Brockman,’ she said. ‘And don’t look so shocked. I saw _The Simpsons._ That fucking show has been around longer than half our staffers have been alive. Of course, Davison.’

Gary scuttled out. Now there was someone she’d expect to get shoved around and bullied by a girlfriend. Boyfriend? Who knew with Gary? Although these days who knew about anyone.

Gary returned with her tea and an anticipatory gleam in his eye. He _loved_ gossiping about pretty much anyone and he was maybe the only person around who disliked Kent as much as she did. Although Ben had to come close.

Selina accepted the offered cup and took a sip. ‘Do you know anything about…’ She took a moment to decide how to word it. ‘His background. Family. Relationships. That kinda stuff.’

‘ _Well_ , he’s divorced, but that was years ago. He’s dating Isabella LaReine, she’s the CEO of Killdene Industries, the defence manufacturer.’ Gary took a breath. ‘She’s been married four times; twice divorced and twice widowed.’ He lowered his voice. ‘She was investigated for the second one because it was a weird accident.’

‘She couldn’t have been arrested or Kent wouldn’t have got clearance,’ Selina said.

Gary shrugged. ‘Her third husband still has a restraining order against her.’

Selina leaned back in her chair. ‘Men shouldn’t be allowed to get restraining orders.’

Gary made a noncommittal sound.

Selina waved her hand. ‘What’s the reason for the restraining order?’

Gary’s face fell. ‘I don’t know! Oh no, I’ve let you down!’

She rolled her eyes. ‘It’s no big deal.’

‘I’ll find out,’ he promised. ‘But I know that she’s been dating Kent about five months. They went to the Womersley Charity Ball last Friday. She wore a _gorgeous_ Vera Wang dress and fabulous –’

‘I don’t care about her shoes,’ Selina interrupted. ‘What does she look like?’

A slightly worried expression crossed Gary’s face. ‘I suppose she’s attractive.’

‘Uh huh.’ Selina frowned. ‘In what way?’

Gary’s hands sketched out the shape of a woman who might have to duck to go through doorways and who would probably struggle to keep her balance.

‘A giant with beach balls glued to her chest,’ Selina said sourly. ‘Good to know.’

‘She’s got a terrible temper,’ Gary confided. ‘At the Womersley Charity Ball she threw a plate at Roger Furlong.’

Selina snorted. ‘Good. Someone should throw stuff at him. Punches for preference.’

Gary twisted uncomfortably. Honestly, he had the grace and poise of a toddler. ‘It’s not very feminine,’ he murmured.

Selina scowled. ‘Men don’t get to define what’s feminine, Gary, and somehow that includes you.’

***

It was weird, seeing Kent, knowing he was dating some bitch who was kicking him around. Yeah, yeah, women should lift up women, blah, blah, blah.

Selina leaned back in her chair and ran her fingers through her hair. The ending of the training felt like three weeks ago, not four hours. She stood up and stretched, grunting as her lower back lengthened. Through her door, she could see the darkened office beyond. She’d sent them home a couple hours ago. Amy had said that they were getting restive at working so many long days. Lame. They just couldn’t get the staff.

She’d even let Gary go home. That was definitely a mistake. She had to carry her own bag and coat for fuck’s sake. The secret service fell in behind her as she headed towards the elevator. There would still be people working over in the West Wing. There were always people working over there. She snorted, remembering Kent working in the Oval Office so people would think that POTUS was still awake. She needed to try that trick.

She heard the voices as she exited the elevator. Ugh, old white men arguing. She didn’t even have to see them to know that’s what it was. They got this _tone_. She couldn’t describe it, but she knew it when she heard it. The tone of an older guy with too much privilege and too little accountability.

There was a knot of them in the vestibule arguing over she didn’t know what and she didn’t care. As she skirted the edge of them, Kent glanced towards her. He looked drawn and tired.

‘Kent, a word please?’ She didn’t know why she said it. She didn’t have anything to say to him besides maybe, “quit stopping POTUS talking to me,” and even that was bullshit. She knew that. Still, she stepped back a little way off from the group.

‘Ma’am?’ he asked, putting his hands on his waist and stretching his back.

‘You’re playing with fire, aren’t you?’ she asked quietly.

He looked at her blankly.

‘I’ve been there, I get it,’ she said. ‘Other half is keeping you on a tight-leash so you avoid them but that just makes them even more of a controlling asshole. It’s nearly ten and she was hassling you about what time you’d be coming home at like… three PM.’

His cheeks flushed and he looked away. ‘This isn’t…’

‘Okay, I’m gonna mind my own business I guess,’ Selina said.

He shook his head. ‘This isn’t a good place for a discussion of this nature.’

‘Okay,’ Selina said. ‘Let’s go discuss it somewhere else.’

She didn’t know why she said that either.

He stared at her for several seconds. ‘Okay.’

***

Selina had been in politics a long time. Before that she’d been a lawyer. Not some cheap-suit-wearing, bad-haircut-having, public defender or sleazy divorce lawyer. No. She’d been corporate. While she was aware of the difference between her lifestyle and “regular” people, she’d seen _Friends_ a couple times, she had never actually thought about the difference between politicians and staffers. She spent way more of her time with staffers than she did with other politicians. They weren’t so different from her, right?

Except it turned out that staffers could and did “grab coffee” in a local coffee place without changing outfits, booking seats, arranging photo-ops – or alternatively having the place cleared out so they could have coffee without the great American public photographing them. Staffers _walked_ when the location was only a few hundred yards away.

It was _weird_.

Kent pulled her chair out for her. That was weird too.

‘Are there menus?’ Selina asked.

‘The coffees are listed on the board over the counter,’ he said. ‘What sandwiches and cakes they have are in the glass cases.’ He gave her a look. ‘I’ll go see what’s available.’

‘This is no way to run a business,’ Selina grumbled.

‘It’s an extremely common way to run a business,’ Kent said mildly.

She rolled her eyes, and then realised that she couldn’t read the list of coffees on the board. Ugh. Typical. She dug into her bag, which again she’d had to carry _herself_ , and found her glasses.

‘What cakes do they have?’ she asked as Kent sat down.

‘Brownies, Red Velvet cake, New York cheesecake, and some cookies,’ Kent said. ‘The cheesecake is particularly good.’

‘Yeah,’ Selina said. ‘I can’t eat any of them.’

‘One small indulgence in a week is unlikely to change your weight set point in the long term,’ he suggested.

‘It wouldn’t be one,’ Selina said. ‘If I start then I won’t stop. I’ll suck in every piece of cake, cookie, and sugar-soaked, unicorn frappa-cappa-syrup-coffee like some kind of crazed Cookie Monster.’

Kent chuckled. It made his face softer and younger. God, that was a weird thing to think about. This was Kent Davison. A royal pain in her ass as well as a man she was damn sure didn’t have a sense of humour.

‘Perhaps one of the fruit and nut protein bars then,’ he suggested.

‘I would rather eat my shoe. Which would probably taste better.’ She squinted at the board over the counter. ‘What’s a good coffee that isn’t too insanely sweet?’

Kent shrugged. ‘Americano is a classic or cappuccino if you prefer something less strong. Don’t you normally drink tea?’

‘Gary makes a big fuss of me drinking coffee,’ she admitted. ‘He says it makes me hyper.’

Kent tilted his head. ‘I will remember that for events where you appear to be flagging.’

‘Shut up and get me a coffee.’

She played with the packets of sugar in the little bowl on the table. He hadn’t said anything about his girlfriend on the short walk and she hadn’t asked. Maybe he wasn’t gonna. She could live with that. She wasn’t the warm and fuzzy type. She didn’t have girlfriends who came crying about their relationship problems and blah, blah, blah. She didn’t go doing that to anyone else either. All that chick stuff drove her nuts.

There was a kerfuffle by the door. She half turned and looked over her shoulder. Some idiots were getting loud and jokey about the secret service guys out there. Selina turned back and lowered her face. She wasn’t getting much attention that she could tell. They had to be tourists. From another country. And they didn’t have any access to televisions.

There was a rattle of ceramic as Kent carried over a tray with two lagoons of coffee and a brownie. The whole thing was so proletarian it made her neck itch.

‘Are we gonna be joined by ten other people?’ Selina asked. ‘We’re gonna be up all night.’

‘They’re decaffeinated.’

‘Dunno what the point of that is then,’ she said. ‘Which one is mine?’

He put a cup in front of her. ‘Some people enjoy the taste of the coffee and the ritual of drinking it with pleasant company.’

‘Then I’m shit out of luck.’

He raised his eyebrows as he fastidiously opened two packets of sugar and added them to his coffee. ‘You chose to talk to me. I didn’t approach you.’

‘Yeah, because I’m socialised by the patriarchy to look out for the emotional needs of idiot men who are avoiding their controlling girlfriends instead of just dumping them.’

A muscle twitched in his cheek. Selina shifted in her seat.

‘Sorry. That sounded way more harsh than I intended.’

He poured the sugar into his coffee. ‘Did you mean what you said about having some experience with a similar partner?’

‘Yeah.’ Selina added four sugars to her coffee. ‘Right after my divorce. I dated this guy, Charles. Started off and I just thought he worried about me; you know? But it gradually crept up. He wanted to know where I was all the time, who I was with, what I was doing. If I didn’t answer his texts or calls within a few minutes, then he’d throw a massive fit.’

‘How could you possibly do that given the number of meetings of which you are a part?’ Kent asked.

Selina pulled a face. ‘I couldn’t. He started muttering about me working too hard and maybe my job wasn’t good for me.’

Kent winced. ‘He wanted you to resign?’

‘That’s where he was gonna go, yeah,’ Selina said. ‘I got a fucking intervention from Amy and Gary, if you can believe that.’

‘Is that what this is?’

‘What? No!’ Selina snorted. ‘Interventions are for friends and family and… I guess your boss if she’s looking like she might fire the entire office.’

He smiled again. ‘Well, you have always been extremely clear that you have nothing but hostility towards me.’

‘Hey, you came in and you _immediately_ got in my way. You made me share the stage with Andrew, you got up between me and POTUS, I could go on.’

He sipped his coffee. ‘I did my job. I was attempting to improve your favourability by including Andrew in your celebration.’

She rolled her eyes as she took a drink of her coffee. ‘Sure. Whatever.’

He glanced at his cell as it chimed.

‘She’s not gonna vanish just because you ignore her,’ Selina said. ‘The more you try that bullshit the tighter she’s gonna grip on to you. Christ knows why. I’m sure what’s-her-face could find some other arm candy.’

‘What’s-her-face?’

She shrugged. ‘Gary told me her name, but I forgot. I barely remember who I’m dating. Why would I care who you were seeing?’

‘I was wondering that myself.’

Selina shook her head. ‘I don’t know why I’m here. You’re another asshole who treats a woman like trash rather than just breaking up with her. Why the hell do men do that? Instead of ripping off the band-aid you keep punching the wound and claiming it’s better.’

Kent looked down at his coffee. ‘That’s a fair question,’ he said quietly. ‘I suppose it’s an issue of taking one’s conception of masculinity from the culture rather than developing it from an ethical framework.’

‘What?’

He shrugged. ‘We do it because we don’t want to be the villain. The instigator in a break-up is always painted as the villain, no matter how correct their decision, and the recipient is always treated as the victim, no matter their culpability. I cannot overstate how important perceiving themselves as a “good guy” is for men’s mental health. Additionally, we can be supported for grieving the end of a toxic relationship, provided that we are the person broken up with, not the person breaking up.’

Selina rested her chin on her fist. ‘You’re putting yourself through this crap because you wanna be able to get manly hugs when she finally dumps you?’

She half-expected him to come back with something sharp or snippy. Most guys that she knew would’ve taken is as a direct attack on their precious manhood. Hell, some of them would’ve stamped out in fit of temper. But Kent seemed to think about it.

‘Yes, while that isn’t how I would have put it, I suppose that is a fair assessment,’ he said. ‘I find breakups difficult. I won’t claim otherwise. I am not a man particularly gifted with easy social grace. My group of friends is small and although they are supportive should I present as the “bad guy” for instigating a breakup I am not confident of the same level of patience.’

Selina groaned. ‘You wanna be the good guy? Dump her. This, this right now, this bullshit avoiding her and lying to her, _this_ is being the bad guy.’

He flinched. ‘You’re right.’

She cupped her ear. ‘What? Say that again.’

He pursed his lips. ‘There’s no need to labour the point.’

‘Ppft, do you know how rarely I get to hear someone say I’m right?’ She pushed back her hair. ‘Least of all you.’

He shook his head and returned his attention to his coffee. ‘What happened after the intervention?’

‘Huh?’ Selina asked. ‘Oh, with Amy and Gary?’ She pulled a face. ‘I was pissed. I told them to clear their desks.’

Kent crossed his legs. ‘I would be concerned that Gary might… take steps.’

‘He cried.’ She pushed back her hair. ‘Amy told me that she’d see me in the morning and if I still wanted to fire her I could do it then.’

Kent nodded. ‘She knew that once the initial sting wore off you would consider what they’d said and hopefully see the truth of it.’

‘I hate a smartass,’ Selina muttered.

Kent sighed. ‘You may be in the wrong career if you wish to avoid us.’

‘Oh, you identify as a smartass?’

‘I am extremely intelligent,’ he said. ‘And you have made it quite clear that you consider me an ass, if not worse.’

She tapped her cup with her thumbs. ‘It really bothers you, huh?’

‘No.’

Selina cocked her head. ‘Are you saying that because it’s true or because you think that if you yes then I’ll just do it all the more?’

He pursed his lips. ‘I have a good deal more respect for your abilities than you seem to believe. You clearly have little or no respect for mine.’

Selina snorted. ‘You respect me? Do you seriously expect me to believe that when you have treated me like… like…’

‘Like the vice president?’ he suggested.

‘Whose fault is that? I was leading the primaries until Hughes brought you on!’

Kent licked his lips. ‘Again, I was merely doing my job. There was nothing personal in it.’

‘It felt pretty personal to me,’ she said.

He looked her in the eye. ‘I’m sorry about that,’ he said quietly.

Selina shrugged. ‘Didn’t expect you to say that.’

‘Regardless of your motives in talking to me, I am grateful that you did,’ he said. He clasped his hands on the table in front of him and looked at them. ‘This has been helpful in clarifying a number of things.’

She pulled a face. ‘Whatever that means.’

‘It means I’m going to speak to Isabella.’ He sighed. ‘I owe her that.’

‘You owe yourself that,’ Selina said. ‘You don’t owe that controlling bitch jack shit.’

‘You don’t know her,’ Kent said weakly.

She snorted. ‘I know the type.’

His cell rang again. He squared his shoulders. ‘It’s Isabella. I should answer it.’

‘Yeah, you should.’ Selina stood up. ‘I don’t know what the fuck my motives were either.’

He looked up at her. ‘Perhaps if you work it out you’ll let me know.’

‘Yeah. Maybe I’ll do that.’

The End


End file.
